


Catch You If You Fall

by MapleleafCameo



Series: Promises Lightly [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, First Kiss, Fluff, Humour, M/M, Panic Attack, Pining, Re-imagined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6239239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleleafCameo/pseuds/MapleleafCameo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has been spending time thinking about Bitty. He may have been humming a lot. Even singing.<br/>Takes place immediately after You'll Remember Me</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch You If You Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tanzanite927](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanzanite927/gifts).



> All these wonderful characters were created by the most wonderful [Ngozi]() from her web comic [Check, Please!](http://omgcheckplease.tumblr.com/)
> 
> This plot bunny came about thanks to a comment on You'll Remember Me
> 
> The song featured in this fic is [Time After Time](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWvPOJOYqGA>) by Eva Cassidy

There came a day, not too long after Bittle had snuck out of the Haus and Jack had followed him when it may have occurred to Jack that he might be more than a little aware of Bittle in a way that was not perhaps bro-like. It had started the night he’d followed him to the Pond. He hadn’t followed because he was worried, no Jack wouldn’t worry; he’d followed because he was concerned, that’s all. Bittle might have done something stupid out on the Pond by himself. The ice might have thinned since earlier in the day. Despite not following because of concern or whatever, it was a bit of a revelation. Not once, in a million years, had he thought figuring skating could move him. He’d seen it once or twice, and he’d hung out with a few skaters. Joannie was a friend of the family, and he’d met Tessa and Scott. If you are Canadian and in any type of winter sport, you invariably run across each other. But figure skating. Why would you watch that when there was hockey?

 

So on this particular day, Jack had been musing and thinking, and the image of Bittle in the moonlight kept sneak attacking his brain. He was curious, very curious and somehow or other he managed to ask Bittle what he’d been listening to that night.

 

“Bittle?”

 

“Hi, Jack! I’ve just finished making mini bites if y’all’s interested. Better get to them before Rans, 'cause let me tell you, that boy simply inhales them. Last time…”

 

“Bittle!”

 

“Oh, goodness gracious, I am so sorry. Sometimes my mouth just runs away on me. My Moo Maw always said. ‘Dicky, when y’all sleep at night, does your mouth just keep flapping?’ She said it with lots of love, though, so it was all right…”

 

“Bittle!!”

 

“Yes, Jack?”

 

“That song? On the Pond? Can you…what was it?”

 

Bittle very kindly took Jack’s phone and showed him where to find the song and how to download it. Somehow, accidently or on purpose, he also directed Jack to a video of Michelle Kwan skating. There was something in the movement, in spirit and heart of her routine, that reminded Jack of what he had seen that night, what was, don’t ever admit it, even to yourself, burned in his memory and might be forever engraved on his soul.

 

To find a song that impacts you as a person, changes who you are and what you think, is always thought-provoking. Jack liked the song very much, and he even listened to it falling asleep. He liked it almost as much as listening to Bittle sing that song in the shower, Halo or something. It stuck with him so much that with Lardo’s help, because how could Jack go back to Bittle and ask him, that might be a bit too revealing, he may have bought several albums from the same artist. Although he was a classic rock boy at heart with the odd country song thrown in or perhaps The Hip because what was the point of being Canadian if you didn’t like The Hip, he liked her voice and the simplicity of the musical arrangements. Not flashy, mostly acoustic guitar.

 

Listening to one album in particular about a dozen times, he found The Song. The first one was lovely, and he liked it, but with this one, he found the place in him that spoke of Bittle and his very complicated feelings toward him. It was odd because he recognized it, one of Mama’s favourites. At night, sometimes, when he was little, Mama had sung it to him.

 

He found he would hum it now and then. That was weird because he was usually a non-hummer, silent while studying and don’t even mention music in the changing rooms before a game. Now he hummed it during practice or in the shower, once making eggs in the morning in a surprisingly pleasant voice.

 

Then there was the time, he was tidying his room and thought for sure he was alone in the Haus, and he just belted it out.

 

_And you say go slow_

_I’ve fallen behind_

_The second hand unwinds_

 

The sound of the floorboard creaking was the first indication he wasn’t as alone as he thought. The muffled snicker was the second.

 

He turned to see Ransom and Holster standing there, mouths open, a slight smirk on Holster’s lips. They had impeccable timing, walking in on people who are lost in their thoughts, and if those thoughts were about a good looking, fierce baker from Georgia and who played hockey and if at that moment when you were singing a song that reminded you of him, and you happened to go full-out belting it just when they walked by your room you can see how that might be misconstrued or perhaps just plain construed.

 

And of course, Holster picked up where Jack had left it hanging.

 

_If you’re lost, you can look_

_And you will find me…_

 

That was before the pillow hit Holtz in the face and Jack’s door slammed shut.

 

It was a secret how much he liked that song. Or at least, he thought it was a secret, and one he knew he would never, ever tell. He was fooling himself. Not many expressions roosted on his face, but people knew when he sang it or hummed it or tapped it out on the table while doodling hockey plays, that he was thinking about a particular someone.

 

Bitty was in the kitchen the day Jack thought he was alone. Jack’s voice echoed throughout; then a yell happened, and a door slammed. He was surprised because Jack, well, was Jack, and it wasn’t often he would just sing. Moments after the door slammed, Rans & Holster walked into the kitchen. They were still snickering, just a bit, but for some reason when they saw Bitty standing there they both just stopped, looked at one another, looked at Bitty and muttered something about homework, but what evs because Bitty had baking to do.

 

And not long after that, Bitty found that while he was baking, he was humming. Usually Queen Bey, sometimes Nicki. Today he was humming something else. And then he started to sing.

 

_After your picture fades_

_And darkness has turned to grey_

_Watching through windows, I’m wondering…_

 

Ransom and Holster must just have a sense for it. Impeccable timing, to walk in on those who are lost in their thoughts, and if those thoughts were about a good looking, fierce hockey player from Quebec who liked history and if at that moment when you were singing a song that reminded you of him, and you happened to go full-out belting it just when they walked into your kitchen you can see how that might be misconstrued or perhaps just plain construed.

 

They backed out of the room quietly. There was no way they were going to chirp Bitty about this. No fucking way. Not if they ever wanted to eat pie again.

 

A decision was made to Have a Meeting because you see, they knew what was what and they also knew that neither of those two idiots would ever face the sweet and simple truth.

 

Unfortunately, they neglected for some reason to include Shitty in this conversation. Shitty might have redirected their excessive enthusiasm and cautioned them it might not be wise.

 

On a bright a sunny day in the spring, Jack headed over to Faber, fully expecting to get in practice. That simply wasn’t going to happen.

 

Bitty followed slightly behind, trying desperately not to think about a certain Captain’s rather epic posterior because it was doing things to his young heart.

 

The changing rooms were quiet. Jack frowned. Where the hell was everyone?

 

Bitty saw it was just the two of them, so he schooled his thoughts and started to speak when he saw the sign tacked over the door out to the rink.

 

‘LEAVE YOUR GEAR BEHIND PUT ON YOUR SKATES AND GET YOUR ASSES OUT ON THE ICE!!!!!’

 

“Excessive use of exclamation marks,” said Jack.

 

“They are just plain up to something. I hope it’s not like that time with the whipped cream and the canned pie filling. And once again I will state for the record that that canned pie filling did not come from my cupboard.”

 

“Bittle?”

 

“Yes, Jack?”

 

“Lace up.”

 

Skates on, they headed out to the ice. The lights were low, and the rink appeared empty. Jack skated out to the middle, looking around, a puzzly frown sat between his eyes and on his mouth. Something Bitty would not admit looked absolutely adorable.

 

“Hello?” he called out.

 

The first few notes of a guitar filled the arena, and words follow, tumbling behind.

 

_Lying in my bed_

_I hear the clock tick_

_And think of you…_

 

Jack stopped, dead still, arms at his side, his mouth working, open and close. His pulse began beating very fast. He didn’t know what to do, and he certainly couldn’t look at Bittle. Not with his heart lying there on the ice and his face exposing the truth. Grey shadows seeped into his vision and noises seemed to be coming from far away. He found he was hunkered down, crouched on his skates and his breathing was getting a wee bit erratic.

 

“Jack? Jack! Can you hear me?”

 

And a warm hand was rubbing his back, and a warm voice was filling his mind and his heart slowed a bit, not enough, not just yet. He was afraid to open his eyes because he didn’t want to see Bittle’s face. He didn’t want to see the sympathy that would be there, the understanding and the knowing look. He didn’t want Bittle’s brown eyes to get that shuttered look and then there would be the cold shoulder and the avoidance, because, really why would Bittle feel the same? Why would Bittle care about someone so obviously broken and fucked up?

 

Bitty saw Jack go down, crouched almost into a ball on the ice and his heart skipped a beat. He skated up to the shuddering form and leaned into Jack, rubbing his back.

 

“Jack? Jack! Can you hear me?”

 

He could hear Jack’s breathing become a wee bit more even, so he tried to get him to look at him, even though Jack would know, Jack would see that he had stupidly, once again fallen for a straight boy. And even if, miracles of miracles, time had turned back and created a gay Jack Zimmermann, why on earth would someone like Jack, perfectly beautiful Jack, fall for him. He didn’t want to see the sympathy that would well up, the understanding and the knowing look. He didn’t want Jack’s blue eyes to get that shuttered look and then there would be the cold shoulder and the evasion.

 

With his knees starting to hurt and his legs to cramp, Jack decided to get it the hell over with, and he opened his blue eyes to look into Bittle’s brown ones and what he saw there was not censure or pity. What he saw was concern and maybe, perhaps, there might have been a hint of something more.

 

Bitty looked at Jack and relief flooded him because there wasn’t pity and there wasn’t hate in those blue eyes. There were questions and concern and perhaps, maybe, something a bit more like love.

 

Helping Jack up out from his crouch, Bitty’s hand was on Jack’s elbow, and it seemed okay to move it up a bit and place it on the bicep and put his other arm around his waist. Jack leaned into him and his free hand rested on Bitty’s shoulder, and they faced each other. Bitty looked up at Jack and Jack ran his hand up Bittle’s neck, slow and sure. He cupped his face. Bitty’s heart started racing, and his breathing got a wee bit erratic. Jack leaned in and his lips were on Bitty’s and Bitty’s eyes widened in surprise and then he closed them. He closed them; he kissed back and in that kiss he told Jack everything while Jack answered him.

 

The song must have been on repeat because it was still playing or else time had shifted, and the world had stopped and no time had really been wasted between the beginning and the kiss.

 

Pulling back, Jack still held Bitty’s face, precious and beloved. Bitty reached up on the tip of his skates his arms braced on jack’s because there are no picks on the front of a hockey skate, and he didn’t want to slip and fall on his face to ruin a perfect moment. Capturing Jack’s lips once more, maybe poking his tongue out a bit and Jack might have captured his back, and it was sweet and slow. There were sighs and murmurs of affection.

 

After a time, when the song was on it’s third or fourth repeat, Bitty held out his hand and pulled Jack to him. They skated, the two of them, Jack slow and steady and Bitty sweeping around and spinning past him but forever coming back to touch and to kiss and to never, ever let him go.

 

Later, after, they returned to the Haus. Later, after, they told Shitty and Shitty had hugged the complete crap out of the both of them. Shitty might have had a word or two with Holster and Ransom about certain things. They might have apologized profusely and begged forgiveness. Bitty might have threatened them with a pie made with canned filling, but he would never do that. Not really. He had a rep after all.

 

It wasn’t the end of everything, as Jack had feared for a minute or two. It was the beginning, the beginning of the two of them, together, catching each other, waiting for each other, loving each other.

 

At least, that’s what Bitty sang quietly to Jack, in his ear, later, in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Joannie is Joannie Rochette, French Canadian skater who won silver in 2010 at Vancouver. Tessa and Scott are Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir who won Gold in ’10 in ice dance & silver in ’14. The Hip is, of course, The Tragically Hip, most awesome Canadian band. Here is my favourite song, which does not come into this at all:D [Bobcaygeon]().


End file.
